She Never Wanted To Leave
by Lana Frare
Summary: The morning before her wedding, Padmé Amidala finds herself transported at the peak of the Galactic Empire, finding a future so gloomy, is there anything she can do to make it better? Time travel AU.
1. Chapter 1

She had just managed to calm herself, the fear and nervousness of the last few days had not worn out, yet something like peace came over her.

She walked to the bed, where her wedding dress laid; she picked it up, caressed it with her fingers and held it closely dear to her heart.

Without thinking, she gave a small cry and a slight jump. Giggling like a schoolgirl, she began the process of getting ready.

"My lady," Dormé, her handmaiden, knocked on her door. "I've come to help you."

"Then you better hurry," Padmé said, smiling broadly. "Because I am halfway there!"

"Why didn't you wait for me?" Teckla, another handmaiden, walked in, looking shocked. "Oh at least let me do her makeup! Please, Senator!"

Padmé's smile grew large and radiant.

She felt already that this would be the happiest day of her life.

"Dormé, are you almost finished with the veil?" Teckla urged.

"Yes, just give me a moment."

"The droids wanted to be here, Senator," Dormé said as she finished accommodating Padmé's dress.

"And where are they?" Padmé asked, a little breathless.

"With the groom," Dormé giggled.

Padmé took a deep breath. _The groom…_

"Oh," both handmaidens sighed at the same time. "You are ready!"

Padmé walked to the mirror, looking at herself from head to toe. Tears crowded around her eyes but she kept them from falling.

She wished things could be different. She wished her mother and sister were there to help her nerves. She wanted her family and friends in the ceremony. She truly wished they didn't have to hide…

But no matter, she had to take what she could—and it was quite a lot, actually—the prospect of spending her life with Anakin was one that completely overwhelmed her with happiness.

"I am ready!" she cried, smiling at the mirror.

"We'll go and see if the priest is ready," Dormé said.

The handmaidens left her, and Padmé took advantage of the moment she had to herself to go out into the balcony. She looked down at the beautiful scenery Naboo offered her, breathing in the sweet air, breathing out fear and worries… _There's no turning back. I am doing this._

The time for doubt had passed. It would do no difference if she gave a moment's thought to everything they were risking. She didn't care of what their decision might cause. She loved him and he loved her, what was the harm in that? Why should anyone care? Why should she renounce him based on an ideology dated a millennium back? And who's to say they couldn't still serve the galaxy as a married couple?

There was no law preventing her from marrying Anakin, and even if there was, she was sure she'd ignore it.

She sighed, in love, excited, tremulously, almost jumping again. She closed her eyes for a moment, when she opened them again she'd go get married, she'd run to happiness—

But something strange happened.

A sort of daze took over. She couldn't see anything. She couldn't walk or even move. At times she'd thought she wasn't breathing properly. There were a million mixed colors seizing her sight—then they disappeared and all was black. She felt like screaming; she tried and she did but she heard nothing.

Suddenly it was like she fell from a really great height. She grunted and covered her face with her hands. "Oh gods," she gasped. _Am I dreaming?_

Perhaps it had all been an illusion and she hadn't rose at all that day. Perhaps Anakin was still asleep, and her handmaidens where just about to go knock on her door to help her get ready.

She stood from the ground, which felt grassy, and looking up saw Naboo's moons shining bright.

It looked like a beautiful night, she walked through the fields, thinking this to be a dream, and decided to just wait till conscience called her back to the real world.

Her feet were covered in dirt, her beautiful dress stained at least 10 centimeters in mud, but what should she care? It's not like it was real.

She found town, an elegant sight more splendid than she remembered. There were many flying cars above. Buildings taller than was the norm in Naboo, and also, more futuristic looking than classically built. This architecture was not the old Nabooian beauty she grew up with. Strange that she should dream her home-world like that…

There was also an endless parade of clones. She supposed her subconscious was anxious over the war that had recently been declared, and that's why she dreamt them.

"Oh goodness, why do they allow that kind of scum in the city?" Padmé heard a high-pitch voice behind her.

"Come down, madam, that's just a peasant."

"But how can there be peasants in the city? Ugh, I had thought Naboo had eradicated their kind!"

Padmé realized the two old women were talking about her.

"I am not a peasant," she said, instinctively defending herself, "and even if I were, as you deem me, what would the trouble be?"

The woman pursed her plumped lips, she turned around as if Padmé weren't worth her time, and aided by two servants, she and her company went away in a fancy-looking car.

After they were gone, Padmé took a moment to think about their clothing. It was very strange, while sophisticated and expensive looking, it was also colorless and plain.

_I want to wake up now, _she thought_. Oh I want to get married._ _Off from this strange dream!_

"You!" afterwards she heard a robotic-like voice. "There it is."

"What?" Padmé stammered.

"We received a complaint about a beggar woman—"

"I am Senator Amidala, Clone trooper," Padmé said, looking at the crowd of soldiers circled around her. "And why do you take calls from some rich woman? I would think you have plenty of work as it is."

"This one's mad," the trooper said. "Take her."

"Stop!" she flinched. "What are you doing?!"

She kicked at the troopers, trying to stop them from apprehending her; but they didn't give her much time to give a struggle. She saw one of them point a blaster at her, she instantly froze and stopped defending herself.

"Let me go," she said after a while, scared and not knowing where they were taking her. "I have to get married today," she said, as if in a trance.

_Wake up. Wake up! _She pinched herself to no success. She slapped her own face. She bit at her wrist. The troopers alternatively watched her and shook their helmets, as if disturbed.

They took her to a type of jail, they locked her in a cell with some strange, questionable-looking men and women.

"I want a lawyer!" she screamed as the troopers walked away. "Damn you!"

"Got caught by the snowmen, youngling?" a middle-age man sat in the cell, smiling at her with a mouth that had at most four teeth.

She stepped back, unsurely.

"How else would she find herself here?" a woman said with a rough voice.

"Never get caught by the Emperor's snowmen!" the man from before shouted in a deranged manner. "No… no!"

"I'm sorry," Padmé said, gathering her courage; inwardly upbraiding herself for being afraid while dreaming. "What is he talking about?"

"That's just how some people refer to the stormtroopers, girl."

"Yes, yes. The snowmen," the man repeated.

"Stormtroopers? Emperor?"

The cell's door opened. A trooper escorted Padmé outside and to a small office.

"It appears you disturbed the city," a young man in a uniform Padmé didn't recognize stated. "There's a high fine for that behavior, beggar."

"I am not a beggar, I am a senator!" she said, out of patience. "The senator of this very planet, no less."

The officer sighed. "Are you, really? Those are some strange rags you chose to walk the city, '_Senator,'_" he grinned.

"You know what? I am done explaining myself, it is too exhausting. I will just let things happen until I wake up."

"Right…" the officer shook his head. "Loon," he whispered to himself. "What name did you use, then, _Senator_?" he said, as if humoring a child.

"Senator Amidala. Padmé Amidala."

"Amidala… wait. That name does ring a bell…" he looked thoughtful for a moment, then, he started laughing. "Amidala! That's the name. The famous politician from the Old Republic, ha! Did you mix a history book with your Sith scorcher?"

_Old Republic?_

"Foolish girl. If you wanted to get out of paying the fine by impersonating a politician you could've at least picked one still active. Even madness needs a little sense. You mustn't had paid much attention in school. Padmé Amidala died at the birth of the Empire, almost twenty years ago."


	2. Chapter 2

She didn't know why but it had been very hard to keep her heart from beating so savagely; her tears from falling; her screams from bursting and exploding.

_It is not real,_ was the constant thought she kept using to chastise and steady herself. _I am only dreaming_. Why she should dream of empires and her own death on the eve of her wedding day, she couldn't say, but she also didn't have the energy to wonder.

It also seemed strange that sensations felt so real… she had never experienced that in a dream. She could taste the saltiness of tears as in her hardest moments. She could feel the pain of physical brutality. The soring of hunger. The fatality of exhaustion. While in the dingy and narrow cell, she battled against her eyelids, not just to chase away tears, but to keep them open. She had felt every hour drag on, when usually time passes quickly in dreams…

She woke up with a headache from the past tears, and an aching body from the lack of a proper bed. She rubbed her eyes, forcing herself into the state of awareness so hard to accomplish when one just rises—but wait.

How? How can she wake up if she was dreaming?

"Where am I?" she blurted out in panic.

"Still in the cell, youngling," the other prisoner said. "And it is a good thing, too. Force knows, when they dispose of you there's hardly much 'you' to pick up after…" he went on and on about crazy revolutionary ideas, democracy and rebellions. He declared he hated the empire and couldn't soon enough see it fall. He looked positively mad, and it worried Padmé, as she felt the prisoners ideals matched her own to perfection.

"But how is it that the person that most makes sense around me is the one who's mad?" she muttered to herself.

"It is the galaxy that's gone mad," he responded sharply, and she startled as she thought she had only said that to herself.

"Of what empire do you speak of, sir?" Padmé asked.

"The only one there is as of now, sweet youngling."

"I am not a youngling, sir. I am to be someone's wife soon."

"Ah, at my age anyone whose hair isn't yet grey and whose skin is still smooth is considered one, sweet thing. And I of course spoke of the Galactic Empire."

Padmé regarded the man more closely. He wore shaded glasses and raggedy clothes. His head was covered in white and the skin was a soft brown.

Padmé stood in front of him and she realized something.

"You can't see," she didn't think herself rude, he was a character of her dreams and so she couldn't hurt his feelings.

Yet he flinched. "from one eye I am completely blind. Yet with the other I can very well see your pretty face. Don't pity me. I can assure you," he said, seriously "I could split you in have without the weapons they took from me. Though most of my sight left me I am yet a fighter."

There was a strange sense of pride coming from his words, they somehow took away from his crazy appearance.

"I know who you are," Padmé said, stunned. "Answer me, are you a Nabooian?"

"As much as you probably are."

"Captain Typho?"

He took himself a moment. "I have not been that in a long time, girl. Most refer to me as the one-eyed madmen of Theed."

"Oh gods, I am sorry for dreaming you to be in such an awful scenario. I am sure the universe itself could never put you down like this."

He took another moment before speaking. "Your voice," he said, voice filled with disbelief. "Why is it so familiar?"

"Captain, you were—you are the head of my security team! You have ensured my safety since the Separatist crisis, and will do so now that a new war has started!"

"The civil war could have nothing to do with the senator I failed to protect," he lamented.

"Civil War? Oh, stop it. I am talking about the Clone Wars—"

"The Clone Wars ended twenty years ago!"

"No. I only wished they did—or that they never came to be. Captain, why do you say you failed me? Oh that silly officer said I died at the Birth of the Empire… and I couldn't convince him of his mistake, but you are a sound man, you will back my case I am sure!" she said all this smiling.

Loud laughter quickly erased her smile.

"A sound man indeed!" a woman cackled. "Oh Sith, one sees so many crazy people while being a prisoner of the Empire, but you two take the prize! _Captain_. _Senator_." she exploded in laughs as did every other prisoner.

She tried to tell them to be quiet but her voice couldn't be heard amidst the sniggering crowd. It wasn't till the doors opened and a trooper came in that they quieted down.

"One-eyed Madmen," the trooper said. "Here are today's holos."

"Punctual like every day," Captain Typho said. "like every day I thank you."

"You will find today's news interesting," he handed the tablet. "Your cellmate appears in it."

"Padmé! Oh so it was true!"

"Read the headlines, Madmen."

"I can't, they're too small."

"I'll help you," Padmé said, very interested herself. "It says… a beggar woman in a wedding dress disturbed Varykino Island… crying like crazy she was a senator from the Old Republic, she terrorized a family of aristocrats from Theed who were vacationing…" there was footage of herself, it lasted no more than a few seconds, it showed her starry-eyed and lost wandering through the streets.

"Funny they don't mention those old ladies insulted me first!"

"But how can it be you?" Captain Typho ran to her, again looking like an actual madman. "I went to your funeral, I paid my respects to your coffin and even visited your grave!"

"She's just an impersonator," the trooper said, turning the tablet off and walking away. "See you tomorrow loons, unfortunately…" the last word he only whispered.

"This is a nightmare," Padmé breathed. "Oh how do I get out of it!"

"Mental help might work," a young boy prisoner said. The rest sniggered again.

"It might," she repeated sarcastically. "That or…" she saw the metal doors, they looked hard and cold and possibly effective for what she was planning. She remembered a recurring nightmare from childhood in which a monster came out from the lake while she and her sister played. In the dream she ran away for miles shouting Sola's name, usually she woke up quickly and then ran to climb in her older sister's bed. But there were times when she just kept running and the only way she could wake was by tripping and hitting her head with a rock. And it never hurt, it only brought her back to life. So she would try it now… she stood back, took a deep breath, stared at the doors… _It never hurt, it's a dream and it won't hurt…_ she ran full speed. The impact she felt first in her head and then it travelled through every particle of her body. A second impact came when she fell to the floor, she could hear her own gasping and groaning under the loud cries of everyone. For a moment she could feel—apart from agonizing pain—the trickle of blood streaming down her own face. And then it seemed the Force came to her aid as all pain vanquished and she lost all consciousness.

* * *

Opening her eyes was a struggle, one she nevertheless faced. She couldn't move without withering in pain, she tried to speak but her voice never came.

"I would suggest you don't move, miss," said a voice she knew came from a droid. "We cannot offer help today; we have spent a lot with you as it is."

"I disagree, I think we should risk it. Death still dances near her, abandoning her would mean fatality."

"She tried to kill herself, doctor." The droid pointed out. "Maybe we ought to grant her wish."

"I did not… try to kill… myself," Padmé mumbled through a moan.

"Did you think you could pass through the door like a ghost then…? Oh that was only an attempt at humor, please don't cry."

Padmé sobbed. "It's real," she gasped. "This is real!"

The doctor and the medical droid stared at her and then at each other.

"Perhaps the fever of madness is wearing off," the droid muttered.

"Or just beginning," the doctor quipped.

"If I am in Naboo," she tried speaking again. "Tell my family I am here. Please. If this is a future where they think I have died… let them know! My family… my… husband."

"If you told us your real name we could do that, famous beggar."

"I have said it before," she said, frustrated.

"Yes, but we both know that was a lie. Don't make things harder for yourself, you already hurt other people—"

"Those old ladies started it—"

"No, young girl. I mean the family of the dead woman you tried to impersonate."

"What?"

"The family of the late great queen and senator was startled by the news you made last week—"

"It's been a week?!"

"Don't scream, and do not interrupt. And with those manner you want to make us believe you were once a part of the Royal House of Naboo! But yes, the Naberrie family contacted this facility; they want to see you. How cruel of you to give them false hope! They buried a daughter years ago, and now you open the wound…"

"Are they coming?" Padmé said, with hope.

"To be sure, but they will be spared the disappointment."

"How so?"

"The Empire itself will recruit you, sort of speak…"

"I don't understand."

"Neither do we. We thought you to be local news that would be forgotten within the second or third week. But as this is our Emperor's home planet, you cannot go unnoticed, I suppose."

"The emperor is a Nabooian? Who is he?"

"Illiterate apart from crazy?" the doctor sighed. "Emperor Sheev Palpatine."

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Palpatine…" she muttered, resentfully. "That's not… oh."

The Chancellor. The man the entire galaxy had trusted. The man she herself had admired…

How.

"I'm glad he's coming then. I have a lot to say to him!"

"Foolish girl," the doctor spoke almost with pity. "He's not coming to see you himself. What an occurrence! He'll be at Imperial Center. He might just have you imprisoned by a group of soldiers."

"How can clones obey him in this way!" she cried, bewildered.

The doctor and the droid shared a look. "There are no clones in the Empire," the droid said, astonished, as if it could not believe Padmé's ignorance.

"Or worse…" the droid muttered. "The Emperor if very careful about what it's broadcasted about Naboo across the galaxy. If you tainted the planet's ´_perfect_´ image he might even send Darth Vader to get you."

"Who is Darth Vader?" Padmé questioned, the Sith name chilling her.

The doctor shook his head. "Better not dwell on that. It is very unlikely he'll ever show up."


	3. Chapter 3

Curiosity was part of her nature, yet Padmé Amidala found herself for once in her life not wanting any answers.

There were still a million question brewing inside her mind at every passing second, yet the answers she previously obtained from the people in the hospital were enough to quiet her.

And so, it was true.

She had been sent to the future; by who or why she couldn't know, the point was she was two decades ahead of the day in which she was to marry Anakin Skywalker.

_Oh Anakin…_ she wondered what had happened to him. The medical droid said there were no Jedi anymore—they had been exterminated. Each time she thought about it tears sprung to her eyes.

He must be all right… he has to be. If the Jedi Order somehow fell, the Hero With No Fear must've pulled through one way or another. Besides, he wasn't a knight, only a padawan.

_Maybe he abandoned the Order… perhaps we were discovered after the wedding…_

She would know when her family showed up. She only hoped they would arrive before the imperials that were coming to 'recruit' her. She was not so lucky.

3 stormtroopers arrived to her medical room.

The first collected images of her.

The second tied her wrists and legs to the bed so she wouldn't move.

The third came to her with a large needle.

"Get away from me!" she cried in panic, moving like crazy yet unable to escape.

"We'll only get a blood sample," the trooper informed her.

She was unsure but there was nothing she could do to stop them.

It would have been pain free had she stopped moving.

They left her alone for the remaining of the day.

She could see the night was well advanced thanks to the open curtains of the room. The moons of Naboo shone bright by themselves, the stars had gone into hiding it seemed, for she couldn't see them from where she lay.

She was still tied to the bed, wishing she could rise and escape. She knew she was in Varykino island, and though it was much changed, she was sure she could find the estate in which she had been the morning of her wedding.

_Does he live there?_ She wondered. _It was to be our home._

The quiet of the night was undisturbed, save for her own thoughts. It was a silence so prominent and peaceful she could hear the soft howling of the wind, and far away, the clash of waves over rocks.

It almost soothed her.

It almost calmed her to sleep… but then…

A strange noise broke into the scene.

She could hear it from far away—not like the waves, it was a bit closer—little by little it reached her. _Breathing sounds_. The mark of steady steps also invaded the previous quiet.

It disturbed her.

Who—or what was coming towards her?

The doors opened, at first she thought this might be a trooper. As at first she had been unfamiliar with stormtroopers and their armors, this might well be just a different type of soldier from the Empire.

But she could hardly imagine more than one of its kind could exist.

This uninvited visitor was so tall he barely fitted through the small door; he was clad in all black from helmet to toe to the flowing cape. His breathing sounds kept unnerving her as he approached. Against herself she felt herself shake.

"Wh—who are you?" she blurted out. "Why are you in my room?"

"I…" the voice that spoke might've been human, but she wasn't sure. It was deep, dark, and rough. "I am Darth Vader. And I will be the one to ask the questions."

There was a threat hanging on to his words. She just knew it.

"Very well," she nodded, forcing her voice to a relax state. Better not show him she's scared. "Ask me what you want, Darth Vader, although I warn you beforehand, you might not believe what I say. Nobody does."

He breathed a long time before speaking. "Your name is…"

"Padmé Naberrie Amidala," she said for him.

A pause. "Where did you come from?"

"I was born in Naboo—"

"That's not what I meant. The day you were arrested, what were you doing before?"

She considered whether she should say the truth or not. She had already confessed to a group of prisoners, to an imperial officer, and her doctors. There was no point in lying, except she was tired of being called a liar. But then she saw the lightsaber that hung down his waist. _Darth… he might be a Sith, but he is a Force user. He will think my tale possible. Maybe._

"I believe I have travelled in time," she said, noting how ridiculous her words still sounded as she voiced them.

"From what time?" he pressed.

"The Clone Wars had just been declared. I am told that's about twenty years ago."

"Nineteen, to be exact."

"Okay, nineteen. Go on."

He neared her. "What were you doing before you travelled in time?" he asked, seriously.

_That's not your concern._ "I was in my home in Varykino."

Another breathy pause.

"Is the Jedi religion really outlawed?" she asked though he had told her not to speak.

"Yes," he said, it seemed to her, absentmindedly.

"Are they all gone?" she couldn't help herself.

"There's not one left."

She felt as though somebody had punched her throat.

"What is that to you?" he asked.

"Nothing," she lied as well as she could. Of course he didn't believe her; even more when thick tears streamed down her pale cheeks.

Unhuman red lids watched her closely. She had to look away to keep from trembling. She wanted to take a hand to her mouth, to repress a sob. The fact that she couldn't only made her weeping stronger.

She was a pitiful, sad thing, lying down, arms and legs spread and tied, crying tears that seemed of blood…

She gasped and shrieked when he placed a gloved hand across her own. She was confused till she felt freedom on her wrists again. She could sit up and clean her face. She thought for a moment she ought to thank him, but she remember he was a Sith, and her legs were still trapped.

"No Jedi deserves those tears," he said and stood further from her. "They were traitors, and they died as such."

"Stop!" she begged. It was too much, too suddenly.

She didn't expect him to have mercy, yet he allowed a few moments for her to process what she had heard.

"Only the knights were taken?" she asked, hating herself, with hope.

"I said before they were all gone. Padawans and younglings, too."

She sobbed. _Anakin! What happened to you, my love?_

She wanted to ask, but she wasn't sure the Sith would even know the name. Out of the thousands, though his was as famous as Kenobi and the other masters, would Darth Vader remember Anakin Skywalker? Did he see him die?

He stood there motionless and speechless for a while, giving way for her anger to burst. She told herself she needed to keep a cool, collected head. But it was hard.

"What else do you want?" she said in a fury. "Ask your questions and leave me alone!"

She thought he would kill her for that.

The evil Sith would at least punish her for such insolence…

But he only crossed his arms, and said, "You didn't seem to be ready to speak. If we can continue, let's... shall..."

The sound of a comlink interrupted them. Darth Vader turned it off but it kept ringing. Finally he answered and brought it close to his masked face, "I said not to be disturbed," his voice was calm, so she couldn't begin to say why it was so terrifying.

"My lord, it is a matter of supreme urgency," she heard the words, wondering why he allowed it.

"What is it?" Vader asked, impatiently.

"The DEATH STAR, my lord." There was a pause. "The plans have been stolen."

The tall Sith lord didn't falter, yet something in his air made Padmé realize something big had happened. "I'll be there immediately," he said and put the device away. It didn't ring again.

Padmé breathed out in relief. Whatever the words _Death Star_ meant, they were to take him away from her.

She was therefore heavily shocked as he turned to her again, this time he didn't touch her. With a hand movement her restrains set her free.

"Can you stand up?" he asked.

Confused but curious to see about that, she rose.

She was sore and her steps seemed like those of a child learning to walk, but she was sure she was fine.

"Good." He opened the door and a group of troopers walked in. "Bring her." He commanded and immediately they took her.

"Stop!" she screamed. "Let me go! Please!"

They dragged her along the corridor. She thought her screams would wake everyone and make them go see what was happening, but everybody seemed confined to their rooms. No one came to her rescue.

"Please! Please!" she begged of Darth Vader, the Sith Lord that had seemed merciful to her. He walked the white hall till he was right in front of her. She stopped fighting, she laid a hand over his arm; it felt like squeezing metal. She cried out, freaked out. "My family is to come," she said in a shaky voice; "I will answer whatever questions the Empire wants of me, but let me see them first. Please!"

He stood there for so long she thought he somehow might not have heard or understood her. She had hope. He raised a hand, watching her, the world seemed to have gone black and deaf and the floor under her feet seemed to quiver. She had no idea what was happening or what was to happen next. The next time she opened her eyes to clarity she was in a ship.


	4. Chapter 4

Padmé had known the hardships of battles before.

There had been instances when she had been put before death, at its mercy—she had thought—but now; she knew she had been lucky before…

A blaster in hand makes a world of difference. Unarmed and lost—she was sure there was no worse feeling.

Yet the fire never reached her.

Darth Vader had not spoken to her since he attacked her, yet for some odd reason he would not let her out of his side.

She was therefore forced to watch as he killed all those men—those soldiers, she guessed.

The dark hallway was illuminated by the vibrant glow of his blade. No blood splashed even though many men fell dead. She remembered lightsabers were clean weapons. No matter, the red of his laser sword was enough to look like blood at every turn, at every slash. The screams haunted her, she heard them still after the fight was over, if such thing could be called a fight. A slaughter, more like. She stayed there on the floor, cowered, eyes well shut and frightened. _Stop, stop, stop! Please, no more…_ she couldn't speak, but the words manifested inside her mind. When silence fell, his breathing sound return to hurt her.

She looked up, saw not a face, but the black helmet. _Who is this?_ She hoped he'll be quick about her death.

"I have no intention of killing you," the dark voice said, from above.

"Y—you attacked me."

"Nothing fatal. I needed to be quick if I was to defeat the last of the Rogue One. This is far from over, I am afraid. So I give you these options, come without a struggle, or make me force you to unconsciousness again."

She wasn't sure which was worse.

"I suppose my freedom is out of the question?"

"For the time being."

He took her wrist and forced her to walk at his ridiculous fast pace.

Not many men dared stare at her as she walked by Darth Vader's side, though she caught more than one sneaking a glance, those prying eyes were filled with suspicion and confusion, but they didn't match the one she felt.

"Where are we going?" she asked, not really hoping for an answer.

"The men I just fought were rebel soldiers. They have stolen the plans for a very important project within the Empire. If we do not regain them, entire planets will be in jeopardy."

"My lord, fighting's already started in the Tantive IV," an officer said to Darth Vader, fear and urgency in his voice. She could imagine his urgency was due to the situation, the fear more on account of speaking to Vader unannounced.

"Prepare my shuttle, I'll be there immediately."

"Princess Leia is aboard, my lord."

"Of course she is. Any chance her father accompanies her?"

"Doubtful, my lord. Senator Organa has not left Alderaan in months. He has given most out of world responsibilities to his daughter."

"Organa?" Padmé said before she could stop herself. "Bail Organa?!"

This time she was ignored.

Vader took her wrist and hurried her away. She trembled at the prospect of being unarmed in a battle again.

Thankfully, it appeared they had been too late. She walked slowly, careful of not stepping on a corpse. _Rebels_. She could easily gather what the outcome had been.

Vader let go of her, as if she no longer existed. He grabbed a wounded rebel by the throat, squeezing hard at the neck. "What have you done with those plans?"

Padmé wanted to scream to Vader that perhaps if he released the rebel's throat he might get better answers. The rebel was to be admired; he gave nothing away about the supposedly lost plans, or the ship's ambassador.

Vader seethed with vengeful ire. The rebel's neck made an unsettling snapping sound, and the Sith threw him away. "Commander, tear this ship apart until you've found those plans, and bring me the Ambassador. I want her alive!"

_Her._

A strange chill crept down her spine, a different kind of worry, of fear, she had never know. It made her heart race. She followed them though Vader no longer seemed to care to keep her close.

A group of stormtroopers appeared, escorting a young girl in a white dress.

She seemed very young, barely a grown teenager. With fair skin, dark eyes, darker hair styled in two high buns. The troopers stepped aside and she could well see her face. Such defiance in that face! It made her stand tall despite her small form. She didn't cower upon seeing Darth Vader, quite the opposite, she challenged him. "Darth Vader, only you could be so bold." Padmé admired her for it, even envied her, especially when she so feared the imperial Sith.

Her attitude seemed to stir Vader's anger even more. Her dismissing his questions set him aflame. In the short time she had known him, Padmé had not heard him raise his voice to such volume. It made her jump, as he cried, "You are part of the Rebel Alliance, and a traitor! Take her away!"

"Wait," again, Padmé knew it was wiser to not get involved when she was so ignorant and powerless in the situation, but if this was Bail's daughter, she couldn't keep quiet. "What do you mean to do to her?"

Vader turned sharply towards her, as if he had just remembered she was there. "Princess Leia has betrayed the Galactic Senate," he explained. "As of now she is a criminal, I wouldn't worry about her. I know you respect the law, above all."

"I respect justice even more, Lord Vader."

"Senator, for your sake, remain out of it."

"Senator?" the princess questioned. "I do not know you, who are you?"

"I was a senator many years ago, of course you wouldn't know me…"

"For what planet? And what is your name?"

"Your Highness, you are here to answer, not to question," Vader struggled to control his rage. "Do I have to give the order twice? Take. Her. Away!"

The troopers needn't be told a third time. The princess's hands were tied and she was now very much a prisoner, yet the haughtiness left not her fiery eyes for a second, as she was finally removed Force knows where.

Padmé's heart sank. She remembered what the prisoners of her cell had said about the Empire's treatment of those against it. _I'm sorry, Bail. I might still be able to save her. Please, Force, let me free that girl._

More imperial officers came, they looked at Padmé unsurely.

"You may speak," Vader said, putting a distance between them.

They explained things that hardly made any damn sense. But something was clear, they didn't want the princess hurt.

"If word gets out, it could generate sympathy for the Rebel Alliance."

She listened attentively. It was vital for her survival to learn anything she could. Those imperials stressed about those stupid plans no one could seem to stop talking about. _The plans to what?_ They needed to find their secret military base. Vader thought the princess was key to learning all of this. She did not want to be in her shoes. _But aren't I, really? I must not forget, I am the Empire's prisoner, though they put no shackles or chains around me. _

"Follow me," Vader said when they again were alone.

It was a true pain being obedient, but she had no choice.

Vader came to a halt, he turned and looked at her for a long time. He seemed to hesitate, as if he didn't know what to do with her.

"I am clearly in the way," she said. "Why don't you send me to the cell with the princess?"

He continued to stare at her. It made her uncomfortable.

_Oh gods, is he thinking of hurting me again?_

"There is no alternative," he stated, as if truly frustrated. "You'll have to come."

"Where to?"

"You must be quiet at all times. On it will your life depend. Do not try to get away, either, as I know you're probably already planning. Attempting escape would only get you killed, do you understand? The Empire is very different to the Republic."

She wanted to groan like every time someone spoke of the Republic as something that didn't exist.

_I have been a meek prisoner, might be I am actually gaining his trust… _

"I will do as you say, Lord Vader. I promise." She smiled at him, which made him startled for some reason. _Is he a robot?_ She wondered, not for the first time. "Can I at least know, please… where exactly are we going?"

Vader raised a hand; she immediately knew what he planned to do. _Gods, I ruined it._

"The Death Star," he said, and she didn't have the time to marvel at him actually responding, for she again lost all consciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

Padmé gasped even as she awoke.

She said a little prayer to reassure herself, and with a swift movement, rose from the bed.

"Lord Vader?" she called, uncertainly. There was no response. She thought she was alone in the chamber. A sort of dizziness came over her. It was hard to distinguish where she was.

_The Death Star._ She recalled he had told her, regretful as he was for it.

And what the hell did that mean? It seemed like every imperial was up in arms, going crazy over the stolen plans. They meant to punish the princess, and she still didn't know how exactly she was to avoid that. All that mattered was that she must.

"Sit down," she heard suddenly and she jumped. The breathing sound was becoming something so mixed within her world she had hardly wondered at all about it. _Stupid girl, focus!_ She scolded herself inwardly.

"Is the princess all right?" was all she could think to say.

"That is not your concern," he said. "I am just returned from paying her a visit, actually. I was waiting for you to wake up so I could… fill you in on your situation."

"Oh? Please do."

"I understand you have a lot of questions. I understand that you are angry and confused and scared."

"Yes," she agreed. "And so?"

"I intend to ease some of those feelings."

"How exactly? Will you let me go?"

"I cannot do that. But I can answer to all of your questions—when the time is right. It will be soon, when we are far from this conflict. I intend to take you to my castle. Only there will you be safe."

She was puzzled by his proposition.

"I should let you know," she said, blushing slightly, "I am engaged."

"At this point in history, you have long ago been married," he corrected.

"Well… yes. I suppose that's true. You seemed to know a lot about me… can you tell me if—if you know my fiancé? My husband, I mean?"

"I know him."

"Can you take me to him?"

"Only I can do that."

A sort of thrill passed her over. "Do you mean it, Lord Vader? What is his name, then?"

"Anakin Skywalker," he said, after a long pause.

"Oh the Force be praised!" she exclaimed. "He _is_ alive then!"

Darth Vader paced around the room.

"I didn't say that. I did say your questions have to wait."

"Yes, yes," she nodded. Whatever. Nothing mattered, only that she was to be reunited with her love. Perhaps he could help her, with his Jedi insight, to clear the doubts about the galaxy and the situation in which she was sent.

"Where are you going?" she asked, watching Vader make move to leave.

"I have a meeting," he said. "I might not return for many hours. Whatever happens, do not leave this room, do you understand?"

She nodded again.

"I mean it!" he stood for a moment, watching her. She wished he had human features, maybe then she would be able to figure out or at least suspect what he was thinking. His breathing sound was getting restless and frantic.

"No choice," he muttered, as if to himself. He approached her. "I know your word, unlike that of everyone else, and at _this_ point in your life, has meaning," he said, seriously. "You must promise me… Padmé. You will only use this if you need to defend yourself." Her hands shook for a moment as he placed the blaster amidst her palms. "If you cannot make that promise—don't take it."

The helmet stared down at her, she looked deep into the lids, convinced that there was a human being under all that.

Her hands became steady, as usual. With one hand she held the blaster, with another she took one of Vader's hands. She felt the material in the glove, but curiousness compelled her to explore further. _A mechanical arm._

Vader cringed and tried to free himself, but with an attempt so feeble Padmé was sure he did not want her to let him go.

"I am not afraid of it," she said, smiling, tracing the longitude of the strong durasteel arm. "Anakin had just gotten one, and I never lied whenever I told him I didn't mind." Vader tensed so much she couldn't touch him anymore. "Thank you for the weapon," she said, stepping back, trying to ease the tension.

"Please use it well," he asked and stalked away.

_Oh no problem there,_ she thought, weighting the weapon of the future, trying to get familiar without actually shooting. _Why did he arm me?_ She thought, sometime later. _Some great danger must be lurking here somewhere._ Suddenly uneasy, she continued to practice.

Hours dragged, and like Vader had told her, he did not come back.

She didn't know why she wanted him back. It's not like he planned on answering right away. _Where would his castle be? How will I fare there?_

As she pondered the kind of place Darth Vader would own, the sound of battle caught her attention.

_Oh, gods, this is it. This is what Lord Vader had meant._

_Ok, so just stay in your room and nothing will happen to you._

But what if there are rebels on the other side? _Of course there are. Who else would be fighting imperials._ But if they are so distracted… couldn't that give her the chance to flee?

She looked at the blaster in her hand, wondering whether it would be enough to support her escape.

Deciding to be bold, and with the weapon in her hand, she went out there.

It seemed most logical to go the other way from the noise. It seemed like an alright plan, until she bumped against them.

"Ah!" she screamed, startled.

"Ugh," they said in return.

"Princess!" Padmé said with relief. "Oh thank goodness, I had meant to free you."

"Well, some people got ahead of you there," Princess Leia said, not stopping her fast-pace run. Her companions continued behind her, and Padmé promptly followed them.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Why are we running?"

"Either that or become rebel bait," a tall man said.

"Is she a relative of yours?" a young boy asked the princess.

"No. She was Darth Vader's prisoner, last time I checked."

"Well, that's one thing you have in common, Your Highness," the tall man said, smiling even as he hurried. "That and pretty, brown eyes."

They came to a halt before a ship, large but questionable-looking.

"You may come," the princess said, smiling.

But Padmé was unable of returning the smile, hearing what she could not mistake for anything other than lightsabers clashing.

"Look!" the boy cried, astonished.

They all stopped to look at the impressive duel. She instantly recognized Darth Vader, and she knew his opponent must be a Jedi. This gave her hope. It meant people had been wrong, telling her they were all gone. And though she didn't know him, she started praying he would succeed.

"Now's our chance!" the man cried.

With some level of trepidation, she saw a group of stormtroopers was approaching.

She gasped when, upon turning amidst his fight, Darth Vader met her eyes.

She could not explain how, but she felt the reproach he must have felt against her for having broken her promise.

The Sith turned again, to meet his opponent. By turns Vader looked at her and the Jedi, as if he could not decide on whom to focus.

This hesitation aided the Jedi, who managed to strike at the Sith's arm, cutting it off. Padmé knew that was of not supreme consequence, given Vader's mechanical part. Still the Sith groaned, probably more in anger than pain. Perhaps both. The princess urged Padmé to get into the ship. Somehow she couldn't avert her eyes from the fight. Likewise, the boy listened to not one of his companions, and stood there watching.

The fight seemed very long to Padmé, though it lasted less than a minute.

She had high hopes for the Jedi, giving what she knew of them, but an odd pang pierced her heart, watching Vader slash him in half.

"Nooooo!" the boy screamed.

She hardly knew what happened afterwards. She could recall the sound of blaster fire and screams, and metal clanking but she wasn't sure who dragged her into the ship.

She laid on the floor as they flew away, and they were in such hurry or such shock as to not pay her any attention. At first.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a tender scene, watching the princess comfort the boy in his grief.

Padmé sat by a secluded corner, feeling her own fear fade away, realizing the people she was amongst. She hardly expected being made a prisoner by them. A great upgrade from her previous situation.

Her eyes couldn't help but to curiously observe the lightsaber that hung down the boy's waist. _A Jedi?_ It only increased her feeling of safety.

At length, the princess approached her.

"And how are you holding up?" she asked, kindly.

"Very well, Your Highness. I appreciate you letting me come along."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly leave you there. I understand you must be… shaken, as well," she glanced alternatively from her and to the boy. "If you want to talk about it… I'm here."

Padmé at first—though she appreciated the sentiment—couldn't understand it.

"What do you mean, Princess?"

"Oh you can call me Leia. And I mean, well, you were Darth Vader's prisoner. I imagine that couldn't been easy."

"You're mistaken. Lord Vader... He was actually… well, merciful and kind."

The princess stared at her with a face of plain disbelief. "You are not ready then. That's okay, perhaps you prefer to hold it in… I do too." Something dark passed over her sweet features.

_I am just returned from paying her a visit, actually, _Vader had said. A chill crept over Padmé. For a second, it looked as though the princess would be the one to actually need being comforted, but the strong exterior soon reappeared.

"All right, then." Leia gained an air of professionalism and authority. "We can start the interrogation."

"Interrogation?" Padmé was confused.

"Yes," Leia nodded, naturally. "I must know whom I've brought aboard. Now, think well of the answers you give, and don't try to lie—I'm very astute and perceptive. Lies don't often go by without my notice."

Oh, it had been too good to be true...

"Fine," Padmé said. "So long as you respond my questions, too."

The princess didn't particularly seem to like her tone, all too similar in its control and commanding qualities.

"Fine," Princess Leia said, dryly. "I'll start. Give me your full name. Age. And birth place."

"Padmé Naberrie Amidala. 23 years old. Theed, Naboo. Now you go."

Leia narrowed her eyes, she stared at her deeply. Padmé didn't realize the other passengers were staring at the two.

"Leia Organa. 19 years old. Grew up in the Royal Palace of—"she stopped for a moment, took a deep breath; "Alderaan."

"Grew up?" Padmé shook her head, as if annoyed. "The question was where you were born!"

Leia averted her eyes, she paced in silence. Padmé was about to press her to answer, when the boy broke in—

"Leave her alone," he said, putting aside his own grief.

"She demanded honesty. She should offer the same," Padmé was firm.

"You know, if she's a friend of Vader's perhaps we were too soon to pick her up," the pilot said, scanning her suspiciously. "Maybe we ought to be less friendly to her, if she so wants it."

"Are you threatening me?" Padmé was angry, she stared at the tall man. "Perhaps you're unaware but it's a crime to make such remarks! Specially towards a politician—"

Everyone stared at her again. She bit her tongue, remembering where she was—better yet, _when_ she was. _I am not a senator here. I hold no power. I am nothing but the memory of a woman that lived and died almost two decades ago._

The pilot pulled out his blaster. She remembered she also had one.

"That's enough!" the princess cried. "There is a limit to the insolence I tolerate. You passed it long ago, _Senator_," she said with a sneer. "This fool is right," she looked at the pilot, he shrugged, and rolled his eyes. "I was too quick to help you. You were not Darth Vader's prisoner. It is obvious now you were his guest!" she grabbed Padmé's weapon.

"Hey! That's—"

"That's an imperial weapon," Leia finished for her, her eyes filled with fire. "Not one you could have stolen, if you were being held a prisoner!"

"Darth Vader gave me the weapon," Padmé admitted, her heart going a little faster.

The princess smirked. "What's your real name?"

"Uh?"

"Give me your real information right now. Or we'll show you what being a prisoner actually is."

Padmé took a step back.

"You're being too hasty, princess. I understand your suspicions. Granted, if I were in your place I'd have them, too," she eyed the weapon Darth Vader had given her, itching to hold it again; now in the headstrong princess's hands. "But you're making a mistake! I am not your enemy. We must have very similar beliefs, if you're anything like your father—"

"My father?" Leia pointed the weapon at Padmé's head. "What do you know about my father?"

"He's my friend, err, he was. Many years ago."

"Oh yeah? Then why haven't I ever seen you?"

Padmé's head ached, wondering on what to say.

"It is a strange tale, Your Highness. You couldn't possibly have met me because… I've been dead for the past nineteen years you've been alive."

Everyone stopped to consider her words.

"I say Chewie should knock her out while we figure out what to do with her," the pilot said with disdain.

Padmé didn't know who Chewie was, but she also had no desire to meet him. Nevertheless, a growling sound resonated from behind her. She felt her knees go weak and her own voice break as she saw the unmistakable form of a very tall and hairy Wookiee.

"H-hello," she muttered, nervously, clearing her throat. "Y-you must be Chewie."

"Indeed," Leia smiled. "Only one of my new acquaintances I made on the Death Star. Though, if I am honest, I am sort of liking him the best. Specially now. No offense, Luke."

"None taken," the boy sighed. "You guys aren't actually serious, are you?"

"Shut up, kid. Don't ruin it."

"Han, she looks frightened. You guys are going too far."

"Perhaps," Leia looked serious. "Answer the questions, honestly. Now."

Padmé passed her hands across her face. "I already said the truth."

"I know of Senator Amidala," Leia said. "She is a legend in the Senate. Don't mock her work, please. Who are you? How did you come to be under Darth Vader's wing? For who is your loyalty? The Empire? Or the Rebel Alliance?"

"The Republic," she answered, after a tense pause. "Now and forever."

The princess was about to say something, but she stopped mid-sentence.

Padmé could be left forgotten for the time being.

"Looks like your imperial friends are here to rescue you." The pilot said, hurrying to the gunport.

"I'm not sure who they're after anymore," Luke said. "Her. The princess. Or the droids."

"Why don't we sit and talk about it?" Han said, sarcastically. "Come on, buddy, we're not out of this yet!"

Padmé felt her heart sink all the way to her stomach. The Empire was after them, but for the way her situation was left interrupted with the princess and the rebels, compared to that with Darth Vader, she wasn't entirely sure of for whom she was actually rooting for.

* * *

_**Authors Note**_: Bet that wasn't the family reunion you were hoping for. Oh, well, it will get better :) at some point.

Thanks for reading! Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

The blindfold was starting to itch her eyes.

Being made a prisoner again was enough to keep the beats of her heart running fast, plus the enclosure and constant movement and noise around caused her to almost faint.

Sometimes the noise seemed far away, others it felt like it was happening right in front of her.

"Please," she tried again, "where am I?"

As every time she was ignored.

A deep silence invaded her surroundings, so deep she wondered for a moment if she had not gone deaf.

"My name is Padmé Amidala," she said out loud, only to have something break that terrifying silence. "I-I was born in Naboo."

Her breathing sounded shallow.

"My father was—is! My father is Ruwee Naberrie… I don't know where he is," the blindfold felt damp around her cheeks. "My mother, Jobal, she must be at home, maybe she's watering the garden, maybe she's cooking… maybe she's as gone as I once was—" a sob broke her voice. "And my sister—"

She couldn't hear her own voice or her soft weeping anymore.

A sound erupted from apparently everywhere. Clattering. Thundering. Triumphantly.

The loud screams made her head ache.

The numerous steps, marching, running and jumping, made her be scared.

_What's happening?_

_What has happened?_

She rose and started walking around the rebel cell. The guard was gone. The door was open.

The screams intensified.

"Help! Someone please!" she knew no one could hear her.

The stampede of people would have been impossible of avoiding. Dozens of people walked all over her, and it took at least a minute for somebody to help her.

"This is not the time to cover your eyes," the rebel that had helped her to her feet said, as he removed the blindfold. "Join the celebration!"

"What?"

As if there was anything to celebrate in such a dark world.

"We did it! We did it!" rebels shouted and sang.

People kept moving, coming in hundreds, all uniformed, making her dizzy.

She put both hands over her ears, took several breaths, trying to stop and see what was really happening.

She distanced herself as much as she could from everyone else, still struggling to not get trampled on.

She walked, and walked, unsure of what the next few moments would bring.

Her heart jumped to her mouth when she spotted Princess Leia, whom like everyone, couldn't stop smiling and jumping.

Her gut told her she should go on the opposite direction to the princess; the last thing she wanted was to be held captive again.

_Where to go? How to run?_

No matter, the opportunity was there to be taken. _Let the rebels celebrate whatever victory they've won, I'm out of here!_

She ran non-stop, many times clashing against someone else—always too drunk in happiness to care. _A ship. All I need is a ship. And after that… where to go?_

It doesn't matter.

"Let me go!" she screamed. Her guard had found her.

She knew it would be pointless to resist, yet she fought as she was dragged all the way across the rebel base.

Princess Leia had a much sober look about her face, now in a private room.

"Were you trying to join in the celebration?" the princess asked, motioning Padmé to sit in front of her.

"I just wanted to see what the fuss was about, Your Highness" Padmé said, putting on a calm front.

"I told you, you can call me Leia. And if you wanted to know, I am here to tell you," she smiled. "Truth be told, if I could personally tell every imperial I would."

"I am not an imperial," _you stubborn girl…_ "but I'll hear nonetheless."

The princess stared deep into her eyes. "The Death Star has been destroyed," she said with the oddest mix of satisfaction, anger, and sadness.

"Am I supposed to react to that?" Padmé said after a pause.

"You are a fine actress," Leia narrowed her eyes, "but you know well what that means."

_I really don't…_

"How is the Empire ever going to recover from that blow?" Leia said passionately. "Stop trying to act so unbothered and naïve, you know damn well this could mean victory for the Alliance!"

"Princess, I appreciate the candor with which you speak. I admire your obvious interest in politics, one I will admit I share. But you're very much mistaken: I am _not_ an imperial," she gritted her teeth. "I don't know about alliances and death stars… I don't know anything that has happened in the last 19 years."

Princess Leia watched her in silence for some time. "Maybe Darth Vader did more damage than you know… All right. Can you at least tell me, how did you come to be in the Death Star in the first place, especially not knowing where you were?"

"I was…" it ashamed her; "arrested. I was arrested in Naboo. Then put in a medical facility. Darth Vader took me from there."

"Medical facility!" the princess's entire countenance changed. "Do you know what they did to you? Any procedures involving your brain or…"

"I don't know!" she said, frustrated. "I was told many things there, most of which I can no longer make any sense of… Leia, I know I am the one being questioned here… but can you answer one question, please. Just one."

Leia nodded.

"Are the Jedi gone? I thought that might be a lie fabricated by the Empire."

Leia looked down. "If only!"

"But—but! What about that boy? Yes, I saw a boy with you. He carried a lightsaber. And there was a man fighting Darth Vader when we escaped. Can I talk to them please?"

Something in her face must have moved the princess, she summoned the boy.

Padmé very vaguely remembered him, though now it was obvious a change had come in him.

There was an odd twinkle of confidence in his clear blue eyes that hadn't been there before. Also an older air about him. She didn't think too much of it.

"Where's the Jedi?" Padmé asked at once. "Don't get me wrong…"

"Luke."

"Luke. But I would like to speak to someone who might've been alive during the," she swallowed hard; it was still too hard to accept. "Republic."

"Hey don't discriminate against us," Luke said. "You look pretty young yourself."

_I could be considered your senior for about two decades,_ Padmé could have said. But this was not the time for banter. "Seriously Luke," she said. "Can I speak to the Jedi?"

The boy looked down. He rubbed his face hard with his hands, cleared his throat, and in his best "strong" voice, said, "I am a Jedi—or I'll be one. I promised Obi-Wan and—"

"Obi-Wan!" Padmé interrupted. "Obi-Wan Kenobi you mean?"

"Do you know him?" Princess Leia interposed.

Padmé had to sit down.

Oh why! She had been in the presence of one of the only people who could actually help her… and she had ran the other way! Ugh, no matter; all she had to do now was call for him. Surely with the Jedi Master speaking on her behalf, no one would doubt her unlikely story anymore. Oh thank the Force she escaped Darth Vader—wait.

"Oh," she gasped.

She had to make the connection in a matter of seconds: the young Jedi master she had known since childhood, legendary across the galaxy, known and hailed as a hero from one star system to the others; and the old man she had seen at the imperial station, who struggled through every movement, every attack from the Sith Darth Vader.

"Obi-Wan," she whispered. She covered her mouth with her hand, trained as she was to control her emotions in public, a sob escaped her.

"He died proudly defending our cause," Princess Leia said, calmly in her sweet voice.

Padmé stared at the princess in disbelief for a few seconds, only to then stare hard at the boy, who gently caressed his lightsaber while looking deep in thought.

"You'll be a Jedi," Padmé said, grief-stricken and still in shock; "yet you did nothing to save—to even help your master!"

"That's way out of line!" Leia said but Padmé ignored her.

"A lightsaber hung on your belt and you did not even move your feet to help him from the Sith… I've seen 9 year old padawans display more courage than that!"

"Guard, take her away," Leia ordered.

"You should be ashamed of even carrying that lightsaber!" Padmé cried as she was, once again, apprehended. "Do you even know the kind of Jedi there were before you?! Stop!"

She kicked the guard on the stomach, somewhere amidst the struggle, she was dropped hard on the floor.

Attacked by feelings, she wept, lost and unsure.

"Let her cry," Princess Leia said, firmly.

But nevertheless a hand reached over to help her up. After a little hesitation, she took it.

"I'm sorry," she said, holding on to his hand and staring into Luke's hurt-filled eyes. "I'm usually a lot more collected… but you won't believe the last few days I've had."

"Well, same," he offered a sad smile. "How'd you know Obi-Wan?"

"You wouldn't believe me," she closed her eyes for a moment, too exhausted for feeling.

"You were right about everything you said," Luke let go of her hand. "But I will spend every day I have left to redeem myself. I will not let Obi-Wan's memory down. I will continue _and_ win the fight he and so many others couldn't finish!"

"You already have done so much, Luke," Leia said. "Don't let her bring you down in what should be your celebration day!"

Putting aside her resentment, Padmé found something heartwarming in the way Luke and Leia looked at each other.

"Let me go," she suddenly said. "Please let me go home."

Leia's eyes changed. Padmé's heart sank.

"We will after I've determined you are not an enemy to the Rebel Alliance. Which I'm afraid won't happen any time soon if you do not tell us who you really are. I advise you to start leaving fables and riddles behind. Only with truth you can gain your freedom. This is the last time we'll see each other, I suppose. Good luck, whoever you might be."

"So you wash your hands from this?" Padmé shook her head.

"I have a world of things to do and worry about, I can't even be sorry," but the princess did look a bit remorseful. _She's a master of putting on a strong exterior, _Padmé could realize. "Luke go and get ready for the ceremony."

"I want to ask her a few things, Leia, if that's okay…"

"What? About what?!"

"She knew Ben Kenobi! She even knew his real name!"

"Oh Luke," she set him aside and whispered, "Don't be so innocent, please."

Padmé couldn't hear the rest, but she could tell it wasn't in her favor.

But the princess's influence wasn't so dominating it appeared, the boy approached her to say goodbye.

"I have a feeling we'll see each other again," he said. "I hope that by then I am more worthy of this…" he showed her his lightsaber.

"I was too harsh before," she said, as if to apply balm where she had wounded, though she still felt the same. "I'm sure you'll…" she stopped for a second to look at his lightsaber, at first curiously, narrowing her eyes, working her memory. Then without thinking she snatched it from his hands.

It was his! Anakin! It was Anakin's lightsaber!

"I knew it!" Princess Leia cried, pulling her blaster and shooting Padmé at once.

The former senator managed to dodge it. "Where'd you get this?" Padmé shrilled, walking back, feeling that her poor beating heart would not be able of handling an answer.

"Give it back!" Luke cried as he also pulled out a blaster.

She would take a thousand bullets at once if only they could tell her where to find Anakin.

"It's mine, give it to me!" Luke stood before her, protecting her from both the princess and the guard, while also pointing the blaster at her head.

_I can't! I can't let it go!_

She clung to it, Anakin's weapon, one he built with his own hands, putting a piece of his very soul into it.

"I—I will," she breathed hard. "But just tell me where the original owner is?"

"How'd you know there is one?"

"I just do. Please."

"It was my father's," Luke said, looking like he would not allow it to be in a stranger's hands for much longer. "He's dead."

Padmé dropped it in shock.

Luke immediately kneeled to pick it up, giving Leia and the rebel guard the opportunity to shoot freely.

As if time had suddenly froze, or gone very slow, Padmé could see the fire approaching, and for the first time ever she wished it would reach her.

But even that small mercy was denied to her. She was sure the princess's fire should have crossed her, she waited for the pain in vain, all she got was instead a dazzling sensation course her entire self, where gasping for air was unimportant, so were trying to walk, run or move. Screaming was pointless; wondering even more.

She groaned aloud when the seemingly endless fall finally concluded. Her hands clung like claws to the ground beneath her, and she wasn't sure whether she should be thankful or not for the Naboo grass caught between her fingers.


	8. Chapter 8

She walked, the previous daze past, yet lingering on.

The clothes the rebels had given her were covered in dirt and mud, it was uncomfortable moving through the grassy fields in such a state, but she remembered it had been even more so when she had done that in her wedding gown.

She mostly looked ahead as she walked, legs trembling, tripping a few times in the darkness.

This was a dreary night, all black and cloudy with not the moons or stars in sight. A hard rain fell, making her journey all the more daring.

She shivered when she at last found a road; from afar she could spot the city lights, that had seemed like the most logical path to follow last time. It did not end up very well. If she wished for a different outcome, she should make a different decision.

_Home._

Her parent's house in Theed?

Sola's place?

The palace?

Where to go seek sanctuary?

She did not want anything more than a safe haven, somewhere to find, more than answers, consolation to those answers. Her family were the only ones who could help her… yet she found herself not going to them.

Common sense be damned, logic, survival instincts…

Her feet moved as if they had a will of their own.

She reached the harbor close to sunrise, feet all blistered, drenched in the rain that had not yet stopped.

At last the storm subsided; she found shelter under a large tree, she sat, hugging her knees, trying to dry her wet cheeks, trying to make sense of everything that had happened to her.

Exhaustion finally won and she fell asleep. It wasn't till after the fishermen started making noise that she awoke again. She watched them from a distance, remembering days so far away in the past they seemed unreal. How was it that she was once a girl? A girl privileged and happy? How did she come to be the person that she now was? Contemplating what she was about to do?

It took a couple hours for one of the fishermen to not pay attention to his boat; giving Padmé just enough time to jump in and sail away.

_So on top of everything else… I am also a thief now._

Oh, water under the bridge.

She had made that trip to Varykino countless times before, but she had never had to put so much work herself. She took a moment to appreciate the things her place in the Republic had gifted her… But who had taken it from her?

Stepping into the island, she felt at once the difference in weather; she still shivered, but also with a burning sensation over her face and shoulders.

An eternity passed, she set foot into the place in which she had last been happy. Where she had been a preparing bride, foolishly unaware of what was to come.

There was no security. She opened the marble door and ran the stairway freely. She opened the door to her bedroom, finding it hardly changed by time. Though it was clear that the room no longer had a mistress, it was also true someone had been caring for it.

"Anakin?" she tried.

She started searching the rest of the house, an annoying cough now hindering her actions.

She stopped in a hallway, taking a moment to breath properly. There was a large mirror on the wall. She stared at her reflection, feeling like the person in front of her was a stranger not even her family would recognize. She got a little closer, her hands over her mouth as she coughed aggressively; she saw the twinkle of her brown eyes, somehow not yet faded, though worn and frayed. She blinked and the twinkle turned a sapphire blue, slightly burning her lid. She blinked many times when she realized she was being scanned.

For many minutes nothing happened.

She wasn't even stunned when the stormtroopers broke in. They needn't even to force her, she willingly followed them into the ship.

The journey, however long or short it was, she spent it mostly trembling, cold, and too drained for even fear.

Padmé walked out of the ship already feeling hot, but the burning lava around her provoked heavy perspiration to fall down her forehead, her back, and legs. The flames stood as tall as mountains behind her just as the castle's gates opened.

* * *

_**Author's note:**_ Short chapter but I hope you enjoyed!

Hope you're all well. Stay safe everyone!


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